


A Year in the Making

by mountainhome



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-16
Updated: 2013-06-16
Packaged: 2017-12-15 05:05:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/845651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mountainhome/pseuds/mountainhome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The journey of a high school band through its first year. Between breakups, heartache, success, failure, and one very important t-shirt- it's been a crazy year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Year in the Making

England is a profoundly bizarre place that has produced thousands of bands the world has worshipped.  
-Gene Simmons  
August 6  
Liam  
The lights flicked on.  
And I wasn't disappointed. I wasn't sad it was over. It had been the best night of my life. It's true what they say- you never really enjoy music until you've heard it live, until you're screaming the lyrics right along with the artist and you can feel the excitement in the air like it's something physical.  
I can't recall exactly who said that, but I'm sure somebody has.  
Gripping my newly bought t-shirt and staring at the empty stage hungrily, I must have sat in my seat for an extra five minutes at least. I was only brought back to reality when I took notice of Niall punching my arm with as much energy as he could muster, which wasn't much. He had been jumping around and screaming along with everyone else, perhaps louder than some of the girls.  
"Li, Li, Li, Li-"  
"For gods sake Niall, give me a moment." I tore my eyes away from the stage and stood up. Niall looked like he had just been through a hurricane and loved every minute of it. Every bit of product in his hair had been either sweat or head banged out, despite the fact that the Jones Show wasn't quite head banging music.  
"Okay, I'm getting up. Im driving, mind you." We pushed out of the massive stadium with determination. When you're a seventeen year old boy without much clue how to even get out of the stadium and a goofy tagalong that keeps stopping to check out girls and wondering out loud if they could get backstage if they dressed up as security guards, it's a pretty hard job.  
By the time we had made it to the parking lot, I was positive I was going to miss curfew, yet for once I didn't care. The shirt I had bought was still folded neatly in my lap. I couldn't stand to let my clothes wrinkle, let alone a shirt as important as this one.  
"So what do ya think, Liam? Was it worth staying at my uncles cabin for a week?" Back in June, Niall had brought me along to his uncle's remote cabin to listen to him babble about how all celebrities are stuck up jerks who don't deserve a penny they make. Thankfully, by the end of it he had given us two tickets to the Jones Show, our favorite band, while telling us that they "are the only current band that doesn't make my ears catch fire." He worked as a music producer for Caelum Records.  
"One hundred percent worth it. But... next time, can you refrain from crowd surfing? I swear I thought that girl with the gages was going to grab you and have her way with you, and I'd never see you again." This earned a laugh, the big, carefree, get-off-my-ass-Liam type.  
"She only just grabbed my bum! No harm done!" He cheerily switched on the radio to some crappy pop station and hummed along to the lyrics of some Pixie Lott song. Sometimes I wondered how Niall can just let anything roll off his back and move on to the next thing. Here I was, still stunned by the concert, and yet he was already a thousand miles away. It was enviable, I'll give him that.  
I dropped him off at his house a half hour later. He skipped to the doorstep and waved goodbye. I smiled weakly and drove off.  
My whole family was asleep when I got home. I didn't have any energy left in me to undress or anything of that matter. I simply placed the shirt on my bureau and crawled into bed. Best night of my life, and nothing to show for it but a t-shirt.  
September 10  
Niall  
A day spent planning how to steal a t-shirt from your best mate is a day well spent.  
Indeed, I have never met a finer t-shirt. It fit me perfectly and I've counted either two or three girls staring at me today alone. That's a lovely change from the usual zero.  
The only problem was, Liam was awful attached to the shirt. So how would I steal it without breaking his poor heart? I was contemplating this heavily as I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, trying to zip up my pants. I hardly noticed that I had company until company tapped me on the shoulder.  
Of all people, Zayn Malik was leaning against the sinks. As expected, he reeked of weed and looked like his last hit hadn't quite worn off yet. On the bright side, he looked only mildly unfriendly. I suppose that was his thing, though. Mysterious stoner, voted most likely to drop out at sixteen and get into some shady business which ended up in his tragic murder at eighteen. Maybe I was being a little harsh and maybe I was reading into things to much. But I'm telling you, this boy gave off serious will-be-stabbed-later-in-life vibes. At least he hadn't dropped out... yet.  
"Alright, mate?" I asked nonchalantly, glancing at him. He nodded silently. Awkwardly, I yanked at the zipper and finally got it to close up.  
"I like them," he mused, nodding towards my shirt. I raised my eyebrows. People like Zayn and bands like Jones Show don't usually mix.  
"Oh... Thanks. Me and my friend Liam went to see them about a month ago."  
"Really? They any good live?"  
"Any good? They were the best concert I've ever been to." He smiled a little, if you could call it that. More of a smirk.  
"How'd you score tickets like that?"  
"Liam's got an uncle in the business. We sat through lots of celebrity gossip to get them, but it was worth it." He nodded again. Was I talking too much? I've a habit of doing that, driving people mad with my babble.  
"I'd love to be in a band someday. Maybe once I get a job and quit the smoking..." We were silent for a bit after that. Then he left.  
Weirdest piss I've ever taken.  
September 23  
Zayn  
"Do you think they have any boom boxes here? Like the ones you carry around on your shoulder?"  
"Nobody does that anymore, Niall," I replied wearily, sifting through a box of old Bob Marley disks. It kicked up dust, but in a way, I liked the dust. It meant the music had been waiting for a long time. It meant character.  
One sure fire way to ruin a trip to the music store? Bring Niall Horan. It wasn't as though he could appreciate any of it. I was just damn tired of him humming pop tunes as he helped me with my math homework. Which was all he was good for anyways. He helped me do my maths without shooting myself, I sold weed to him for a little less than my usual rate. I don't see why he needed it though. This kid seemed high on life half the time.  
"Nobody listens to half of these artists anymore, Zayn," he retaliated. I ignored him. If he couldn't enjoy a little older music, he's missing out.  
"You guys, er, need anything?" I looked up. It was the boy that worked the counter, the one with the partial Jew fro. He looked his usual gangly, awkward self. He always dressed like he was part of some pop punk band, which clashed with his baby face. However, he seemed to posses some magical quality that charmed the shit out of every girl (and a handful of guys) that came through the shop.  
"Ah, can you get the crappiest pop record you can find and deliver it to the blonde one? He can't seem to find it on his own." Jew fro laughed obnoxiously, then clasped his hand over his mouth. I was stumped by this boy. Not sure I liked him, either.  
"We've got some more recent stuff over by the counter, if that's what he wants." He motioned to Niall, who was holding a Pink Floyd album upside down. He followed him to the colourful assortment of various pop star's latest hits.  
I chose an old Jones Show EP and one of the dustier Bob Marley disks, then joined Niall at the counter. Judging by his selection of three Justin Bieber albums and a tiny musical note shaped key chain, the trip had been in vain.  
The counter boy, who I noticed had a name tag reading 'HARRY', rang up Niall's stuff first, but paused when it came to mine.  
"Sleeping City?" he commented, holding the Jones Show EP. I nodded.  
"The Jones Show is my favourite band," he said eagerly, "and I've always wanted to, like, have a band just like theirs, you know? Real music. Music that doesn't get old." He reluctantly scanned it and dropped it in the bag, along with my Bob Marley album. I was about to just take my music and leave when Niall stepped in.  
"Zayn here wants to be in a band too." He grinned at me, despite the obvious death state I was giving him. That little shit, dragging me into a conversation with Harry Jew fro.  
"Not seriously. Just like-"  
"If you're serious about it, want to stop by my place sometime? I've actually been trying to actively put together a band for a while now." Was this kid for real? I opened my mouth to talk, but once again, Niall stepped in uninvited.  
"Sure, lets do it. When are you free?" At that point, I shook my head a little and walked out with my stuff. I most certainly did not want to get stuck in some loser band with Harry Jew fro and Niall the pop freak. Why do bad things happen to good people?  
October 16  
Liam  
For all I had learned in school about bomb shelters and such, I had never been in a real shelter before. That is, until today.  
The Styles had decked the place out. Three black leather couches, a large flat screen with surround sound, and a rather impressive collection of instruments, even for a kid working at a music store. Harry was showing off his guitars to Niall.  
This kid looked like he lived for music. He was the type you'd see singing along louder than everyone else at a rock concert. The skinny jeans, 'vintage' tee, vans, everything. Somehow, though, I got a slight not-so-straight vibe. Maybe it was the skinny jeans. Then again, maybe I was stereotyping, and I hated to do that to people.  
"So... Harry, you are?" Harry turned around and smiled wide.  
"That would be me. Nice to meet you." He held out his hand. Taken aback, I paused, then shook it slowly.  
"Alright, now that you lads have been proper introduced, lets get down to band business!" Niall drew a piece of paper and a pen from seemingly nowhere and sat down on the smallest of the couches.  
"First order of business, a band name. I've already proposed Niall and the Potatoes to Liam-"  
"No way."  
"- which is one option, but if you've got any better ones, pipe up." Harry's brow furrowed. This kid was a piece of work. Slow as a turtle, yet pleasant in his own respect. Not to mention, practically born to be in a band.  
"I'm thinking-"  
"That must have taken some effort," came a quiet voice. We all jumped. Sitting on the bottom of the stairs, swaying slightly, was Zayn Malik. He practically screamed "high". Great, another one of Niall's new friends.  
"Thought you turned us down?" asked Niall, arching his brow. They had asked Zayn to be in the band? Why on earth did they think that would work?  
"There was nothing but reruns on the telly," he shrugged.  
Finding my voice, I called, "If you're not going to help us out, then I'd prefer you leave and go smoke another joint, that is, if you've got anything left, seeing as it appears you've smoked it all in the past half hour." Maybe I was being a bit rude, but I could hardly stand druggies.  
"Shhhhh Li Li, I'm here to help. I've got a fantastic idea."  
"For what?" asked Harry, who seemed rather unfazed by all this.  
"The band name. It should be- drumroll please-" nobody gave him a drumroll- "One Direction."  
"One Direction? How did you pull that out of your ass?" A surprising amount of attitude from Harry. Then again, considering his deep monotone, perhaps it wasn't even sarcastic.  
"I was thinking, if they make a band, there's only one direction it can go in, and that's down!" Zayn began laughing hysterically, throwing his head back and nearly falling over backwards, correcting himself at the last minute. Harry looked puzzled, whereas Niall was scribbling furiously on his paper. This band meeting was not going the way I wanted it to.  
"Lovely suggestion, Zayn, but we're only taking them from official band members."  
"Then I'll join the band."  
I laughed shortly. "Do you even play?"  
"Bass guitar. I was forced to take lessons for years."  
"Be glad he's at least talking," muttered Niall.  
"One Direction... it could work. All for One Direction, raise your hand," Harry smiled, raising his hand. Niall shrugged and raised his. Zayn shot up and raised his hand, taking a second to reach up and touch the ceiling, giggling.  
"Fine, we're One Direction. But if he shows up to our next practice inebriated, he's kicked out!" I sat down grumpily on the couch next to Niall.  
"What on earth does inebriated mean?"  
November 5  
Harry  
I had always wanted to be in a band, sure. But this was a bloody nightmare.  
Niall may know his way around a guitar, but he didn't know a single song other than Sweet Home Alabama, which he wasn't too good at regardless. Liam was fairly solid on the drums, but he was rusty. As for Zayn, true to his word, he did play bass and rather well too, yet I got the feeling his heart wasn't really in it. He also sang backup, and had a great voice, but he also had a habit of adding some "yea" and "ooh"'s at random times. And myself? I had agreed to do vocals, sure, but I didn't like singing in front of others all that much. So I tended to end up singing weakly and having Liam sigh and tell me to please speak up because the band will fall apart without a good singer, then Zayn will butt in and try to convince us to let him smoke in the Bomb Shelter, and I will tell him, once again, that we are surrounded by thousands of dollars of musical equipment and that we are far enough underground that my mother will not hear our screams if we catch fire.  
This has been occurring for quite a while now.  
So I finally broke down and decided to take some me time. My friend Nick had called me a couple weeks ago about some party he was having, and I had given him a maybe at the time. Now here I was, clutching a cup of apple juice I was trying to pass off as beer, watching people dance.  
It's disheartening being sober at a party. Everyone on the surface appears to be having a good time. But if you look for a while, you start to see it. How messy everything is. How everyone is trying so hard to get someone else's attention. You can practically feel the regret everyone's going to feel in the morning.  
I shouldn't have came in the first place. But I didn't really feel like going home just yet, either. So I downed the last of my juice and decided to grab my coat and head out for a drive.  
Which room were the coats in, again? One of the bedrooms... I decided to go with the door closest to the top of the staircase. I pushed the door open, but immediately I know I've got the wrong room.  
There's a couple rolling around on the king bed. The guy has his shirt off and the girl's only got her bra and underwear on. They instantly separate and the guy looks right at me. I back out as quickly as possible, but it's too late.  
"Oi, you! Get back in here!"  
I am not a religious man, but I swear at that moment I crossed myself before entering back in slowly.  
"Sorry, mate, I was just looked for my coat-"  
"You're just leaving then? Fantastic, we need a ride." The girl, a pretty brunnete, hasn't made any attempt to cover up. She's sitting on the bed, staring at some point in the distance, looking absolutely smashed.  
I face the boy in front of me. He looks about eighteen, nineteen. Covered in tattoos, total punk rocker type. He doesn't seem fazed by the fact I just walked into him and his girlfriend getting it on, and he doesn't seem too drunk either. Maybe a little tipsy. I already like this guy.  
"El was driving, but she's obviously not in any condition to, so if you don't mind, could you give us a lift? Louis, by the way." He sticks out his hand. I shake it dumbly. This Louis is quite the character, that much I can tell.  
"Yea, sure, I'll drive you. Once I, er, find my coat..."  
"Right, right. I'll just wait here, maybe get a shirt on." He grins. Definitely a bit tipsy.  
I found the coat room with little difficulty. I returned to Louis helping El get dressed, which seemed to me to be an uphill battle. Once the couple was properly clothed, Louis half carried her as he followed me to the car.  
"I'll just put her in the backseat, I think she may have passed out..." Louis mused, placing her gently in the back and putting on her seatbelt for her. Then he hopped in the passenger seat, immediately reaching for the radio and turning it to some alternate channel.  
"So. Do you always hitch hike your way home from parties, or am I your first?" I asked jokingly.  
"Well, seeing as I haven't got a car, this happens more than it should."  
"You haven't got your own car?"  
"Nope. Even if I did, I wouldn't be driving. I think I'm a bit tipsy. Why aren't you tipsy?"  
I reach for the jug of apple juice in the backseat, careful not to wake El. "I fill up empty bottles with this stuff. Nobody suspects it."  
"Is that apple juice?"  
"Indeed it is." He starts to laugh.  
"That's fantastic, mate! Apple juice. What's your name, anyways?"  
"Harry. Harry Styles." I take a moment to let the music sink in. It's a song by the Script, some hit from a year or two ago.  
"I once saw the Script in concert," I remarked. "In Leeds."  
"Wait- last march, was it?" I looked at him suspiciously.  
"Yea..."  
"Sweet! I went there! First row seats man, do you remember when..."  
We talked for the remainder of the car ride. I found out that Louis was sharing a flat with his friend Stan, that he had been kicked out of high school at seventeen, that he was twenty one now, and that he and Eleanor had been dating for about a year. When he asked about me, I told him about my job at the music store, about how I wanted to get into Juilliard, about the band. He seemed interested in that.  
"One Direction, huh? It works... Would you mind if I came along to one of the practices?"  
"Not at all. Ill give you the address." I looked for a pen and paper, but I could only find a crappy ballpoint and no paper.  
"Here, write it on my hand." Louis held out his hand. I smiled and rolled my eyes.  
"Can I trust you when you're walking around with my address on your hand?"  
"Of course. You can always trust me, Styles," he said in his best Boy Scout voice. I wrote the address on his hand.  
Granted, I shouldn't have been so quick to trust him. But it was hard not to. Everything about Louis seemed one hundred percent in the open. I was pretty sure that if he was planning on stalking me, he would announce it then ask to borrow a pair of binoculars.  
When I arrived at his house, he thanked me and carried Eleanor out from the backseat.  
"Three o'clock next Saturday?"  
"Three o'clock next Saturday."  
November 12  
Louis  
When you've been kicked out of not only your school, but your home, and you're living on your friend's couch, actually being invited to something feels kind of fantastic.  
"Alright, so these are the lads?" I smiled brightly at the boys in front of me, sprawled across two of the big leather couches. Harry had told me about them, so I had a pretty good idea who was who. Niall was the blonde one, Zayn was the dark skinned one, Liam was the one who looked like a puppy. Already I could see how the band dynamic worked.  
Liam was leaning towards Niall and they were joking around; sharing an old guitar and plucking at it. Zayn was actually playing a few chords quietly on the bass, but he wasn't being very social. And Harry was already walking off to set up the mic, not paying much attention to the boys  
Getting out and doing things was unusual for me. Sure, I worked part time at a clothing shop, but other than that? I had Netflix to thank for my sanity.  
"Louis, do you want to get on one of the instruments...?" asked Harry tentatively. He was fiddling with the microphone, which promptly popped off the stand. Completely intentionally, I'm sure.  
"No, no, no, that's not happening. I'm just here to observe. Speaking of which, what's your set list?"  
Niall spoke up. "I wanted to play something by Justin Bieber, but ya know, apparently Zayn is too cool for that shit."  
"No, your music taste just sucks," mused Zayn, strumming the guitar for dramatic effect.  
"So far we're playing Teenage Dirtbag, Tighten Up, Found Out about You, Wonderwall... that's it." Harry shrugged.  
"Four songs? That's pathetic. I say you add four more, and you've got a setlist enough for a proper gig."  
"Four more? Where do we find four more songs?" asked Liam incredulously, looking up from the guitar he was currently holding wrong.  
"I don't know, YouTube? The radio? As your new manager, I say you should find one new song to play. And please make it compatible with Harry's voice, as you all know he can't sing any Ellie Goulding. You can start practising now." I sat down on the empty couch and waited for their reaction. They were all silent for a bit, and I almost thought one o them was going to speak up, until Niall shrugged and took the guitar from Liam, who got up to get on the drums. I doubt Zayn had even been listening, but he got up from his seat with the rest of them. Harry, having finally figured out the microphone, stood waiting as the all got into position.  
And they began with Teenage Dirtbag.  
I must say, for a high school band formed in a converted bomb shelter, they were pretty damn good. Sure, Zayn was a little out of it. But I assumed that was his permanent state. Harry, however, was obviously not giving his all. Don't get me wrong, he had an incredible voice. The slow roughness of his speaking voice translated nicely to singing, and he hit every note. But he was holding back. He wasn't confident enough.  
Heaven knows why. Granted, I had talked to him twice in my life, but he seemed like a great kid. Harry was one of those rare cases of people that have their whole life figured out before the age of eighteen. More than anything, I envied him.  
Teenage Dirtbag ended, and Zayn checked his watch.  
"Um, I've got to run. Perrie's been wanting me to come over. Later." He hung up the bass guitar on its respective hook on the wall, gave us all a little wave, and simply walked out.  
"Who's this Perrie and what makes her worth walking out on us?" I asked angrily. I already didn't like this Zayn character. They needed someone in the band who actually gave a shit.  
"His girlfriend. She's nice enough, just a bit... demanding," explained Niall, putting down his guitar and sighing.  
"So that's it, he walks out and you all just go oh well, see you all next week? Absolute bull. Give me that bass guitar, you guys are going to go through your entire little set." This time, I was positive they would speak up, but once again, they all shrugged and picked up their instruments again. Harry gingerly lifted the red bass guitar from its place on the wall and handed it to me.  
"Do you actually know how to play?"  
"To an extent. The songs you've chosen have pretty easy bass parts, just saying." He raised an eyebrow at me. I raised mine back. We held each others gaze for about ten seconds, during which I noticed he had strangely green eyes. Previously I had thought them to be a dark blue, but then again, I had been a bit tipsy and it was dark in his car. When he broke his expression and walked back to the mic stand, I stood for a minute before getting into place. Strange kid.  
December 23  
Niall  
A word of advice: if you ever join a band, don't join a band with Zayn Malik.  
"Where the fuck is he? Is this band a joke to him? Do the words 'first gig' have no meaning to him?" Louis ranted, grabbing at his feathery hair. For someone who isn't even officially in the band, he had a habit of getting very emotional over us, especially Zayn and his habit of disappearing. The only one he didn't bother was Harry. He always had something nice to say to him. Maybe it was because Louis was twenty one whilst the rest of us were in our teens. He just loved to mother us. And when I say mother, I mean a borderline abusive mother.  
"I'm sure he's just off with Perrie somewhere, getting high, reproducing..." mumbled Liam, tugging at his starched collar. "I don't suppose your brother could hold off on the wedding until we find Zayn?"  
My brother had approached me about One Direction playing at his wedding about a month ago. A month ago, I said probably not. If I'm being honest, we stunk. I was just relearning to play the guitar, and I had to teach myself to play the electric on top of that. Liam was good on the drums, but he didn't know any of the songs we had chosen. Zayn... Zayn didn't give a fuck. And Harry, at the time, could hardly be heard.  
Then came Louis, manager from hell. He whipped us into shape, alright. Turns out he knew almost as much about music as Harry, and he had twice as loud a voice. Under his loving guidance, we not only doubled our repertoire, but perfected all the songs on it. Therefore, a week ago, when Greg called me asking one last time if I wanted to play at the wedding, I could give him a confident yes.  
Until Zayn just had to not show up.  
So here we were, all dressed up, sitting on the curb outside Harry's house where we had gathered for one quick meeting, and awaiting Liam's mother to drive us (luckily for us, not only was Zayn too protective of his precious Impala to let us borrow it, Liam's car was in the shop after the five of us had taken it for a ride to the music store and made the mistake of letting me drive on the way back. Oops). Harry seemed rather unfazed. He was picking at the grass and pulling out strands calmly. Liam was pacing nervously. And Louis, Louis wouldn't shut up.  
"It's your bloody brother's wedding, aren't you upset? So rude of him, not a thought for us-"  
"Not much gets to me," I shrugged. That wasn't exactly true. A lot of stuff got to me, but I didn't like acting like it. People always act like if you're sad or angry or upset you should let it all out and they'll be there for you. That's bullshit. If they know that you're hurt, it's like you're crippled to them. And I don't want to be weakened like that.  
The rev of an engine broke my train of thought. Mrs. Payne was pulling into the driveway. Louis let out a huge sigh of relief and walked right to the front seat.  
"Hey, my moms car, I get front seat!" cried Liam indignantly.  
"Yes, that's all very well and nice, but as the oldest, I get the front seat. Get in the back, Payne." Louis slipped into the car and closed the door behind him, smiling smugly through the window. Harry, Liam and I all packed into the backseat. Despite the general feeling of being pissed at Zayn, I could feel the excitement setting in. Not only would we get to play in front of someone other than Harry's mum, but my brother promised it to be a true party. Now, if there's one thing I love about parties, it's the alcohol. And it's never a Horan family party without a healthy amount of underage drinking.  
The car ride past with much fighting over the radio and a long discussion of what's better, football or soccer games. Louis was making quite a case for soccer, claiming that football players wouldn't have his respect until they "could toss around a ball without bulking up as though they're throwing themselves into a piranha nest". I pointed out that the players can get seriously hurt even with all the equipment, and he simply huffed and turned up the radio, which he had turned to a pop station. I was almost completely sure he had chosen it ironically, but with Louis, you really never knew.  
We pulled into the church a tad bit later than planned. It was crowded with cars, which were slowly being covered in the snow that fell lightly from the overcast sky. It wasn't a dreary day, just a little biting. As Louis stepped out of the car, I could see him pull his blazer a bit tighter. I waited for Liam and Harry to get out before I did.  
As soon as we got to the entrance of the church, I felt a heavy hand clasp my shoulder.  
"Nialler, I thought you'd never come!" I looked up and saw Greg's friend Charlie grinning at me, all dressed up in a dark blue suit, linking arms with a pretty brunette girl I didn't recognise.  
"Oh, we're only a couple minutes late. It's not as though it's already began, has it?"  
"Not yet, but soon. You'd best be getting to yer seats." He motioned for us to join the crowd sitting in the pews. Walking along the aisles, I waved to several of my relatives. It was the first time I had seen this many of my family members in one place.  
When we came to the front of the church, I saw that one side had been labeled with my mother and father's names, and the other side of pews had a sign labeled "One Direction". I smiled until my eyes fell on the seat labelled "Zayn Malik".  
"Has Zayn replied to any of you?"  
"Nope, and I've texted him at least six times," sighed Harry, tucking his button down into his pants. He had obviously tried to tidy up his hair, to no avail. It was pushed back in a messy quiff of sorts, with the curls still trying desperately to escape. His blazer was a little too small for him. I could tell even with the sleeves rolled up. At least he tried.  
"Alright, we've lost him. Louis, you're on bass and backup vocals," announced Liam. Louis's eyes popped open.  
"No, I am-" Suddenly, a hush fell over the church.  
"Wedding's about to begin, Lou. Don't worry, I packed the red guitar," Harry assured him in a gleeful whisper. Louis looked extremely pissed, to say the least. But he was going to play tonight, like it or not.  
***  
Harry  
After Greg Horan officially became a married man, everyone piled back into their cars and headed over to their newly weds' house for what promised to be a positively rocking party.  
When we arrived, Liam and Niall started unloading equipment from the car and carrying it to the small stage set up in the backyard. Thankfully, there was a tarp over it, so the snow wouldn't be a problem. People were milling around, despite the cold, some of the more light hearted ones catching snowflakes on their tongues. The children were making snow angels and attempting to have snowball fights, even though there was hardly an inch. Even I had to admit, it was beautiful.  
I reluctantly left the warmth of the car to bring over my mic stand and the second amplifier. Then I noticed Louis. He was just sitting there in the car, with his arms crossed.  
"Erm, Louis, if you don't mind, I've got to get on home, and I think your friends might need some help bringing in the instruments..." hinted Mrs. Payne. While she had graciously agreed to drive us to the ceremony and party, we were promised a ride back from one of Niall's cousins. She tapped on the wheel and looked anxiously into the mirror facing the back seat.  
"Yea... fine. Thanks for the ride, Mrs. P." He slid out of the seat and walked around back. I picked up the amp and mic stand. Louis sighed and picked up the final two pieces of equipment- the red bass guitar and second mic stand.  
Niall and Liam had already set up the drum set with the help of one of the countless Horan family boys. Niall's favourite guitar, a green electric, was hanging from his back. The two of them looked pretty relaxed and carefree, but I saw right through it. Even I had butterflies.  
Louis has taken off his blazer, for some reason, and was nursing some golden beverage that I figured wasn't apple juice. His guitar had been carefully propped against one of the amps. The mic was being set up by another Horan boy. He seemed to be completely uninterested in doing anything to indicate he was even a part of the band.  
Liam hit the cymbal to get our attention. "Okay, remember, five songs- we're doing Wonderwall, Drive, Found Out about You, 1979, and my personal favourite, Your Song." I groaned internally. I hated Your Song. Sappy as hell, far from my preferred rock ballads. Louis would be singing backup on that one.  
"Hey-" I tapped my mic, then spoke into it- "hey, can we add some, like, rock music to this list?" I was met by blank states.  
"Well... do we know any rock songs?" asked Liam.  
"Uhm... I do."  
"Uhm, we don't. So lets just play the bloody songs we know and then get absolutely smashed, deal?" snapped Louis, motioning for us all to get into position. I raised my eyebrow at him. Whenever he got particularly pissed, I would give him the eyebrow, and he would give me the eyebrow right back, and we would stay like that until one of us backed out. I didn't really know what it meant, just that it's what we did. Afterwards, he would usually be a bit calmer, and he would sit down on one of the couches and direct us from there.  
He saw my eyebrow, and for a second, he matched it. Then, as if realising what he had done, he dropped it and fiddled with his guitar.  
So be it. The show must go on.  
***  
"And I said, 'Stan, you've got to be shitting me. You can't buy gummy worms that big at a normal store. You've got to, like, order them from a shady website and get them shipped from Mexico.'"  
"Are you telling me there's a black market on gummy worms?"  
"Oh, definitely. Only the reeeeeeally big ones, though..." I laughed and slung an arm around Louis. We may have had a few drinks after we finished performing. What can I say? When in Rome, do as the Romans do. Therefore, when at a Horan party, drink as the Horans do.  
We stumbled out of the house, waving goodbye to everyone we saw. I watched as some older woman looked closely at Louis' arms, at the faint outline of his tattoos. He noticed, and gave her the biggest smile he could. As I passed by one of the younger cousins, a little girl held out a flower crown made of the white lillies, probably taken from the cases set on each dinner table. I took it graciously, and gently placed it on my head. A grey and slightly blurry car was waiting outside, and Liam had his head out the window.  
"Over here, mates!"  
"Coming, darling!" I called back, which got a giggle and hiccup out of Louis. Thank god Mrs. Payne wasn't here to see us like this.  
Niall was dead passed out and Liam had his blonde head propped in his lap. They had claimed the seats up front, so Louis and I were banished to the back. I couldn't care less. We fell into the seats, not giving the seat-belts any notice. As they closed the door and started to drive, Louis threw his arm around me and pulled me closer. I giggled and snuggled into him.  
"What's up, Lou-di-loop?" I whispered to him.  
"I was just thinking, we did fantastic tonight, absolutely smashing," he sing songed quietly.  
"Only because of you. We wouldn't have been half as good with Zayn in your place." Louis's expression sobered a little.  
"You really think so?" He slid a flower out of my crown and sniffed it, then placed it on the seat next to us.  
"Oh, for sure. In fact..." I chose my words carefully. "Maybe you'd like to become a full time member?" He was silent for a minute, then he hardened.  
"No way. I may be drunk, but you cannot get me to agree to that. You guys are crazy," he added softly, jokingly.  
"Yet somehow, you spend an awful amount of time with us," I whispered, looking right at him. The shadows from passing street lights lit his face oddly. For twenty ones years old, he looked to be seventeen in this light. It didn't fit for someone as lively and energetic as Louis to look so fragile, as he did at the moment.  
"What would I even play? You've got someone on every instrument, haven't you?"  
"We're in sore need of an oboe player," I replied, which he snorted at.  
"But actually? You could be a second guitarist. And vocals, too. C'mon, it'll be more fun than yelling at us."  
"I don't know..." Louis fiddled with his thumbs. It was like he was scared to accept that he could be a real member.  
Time to play dirty.  
I slowly raised my head until my mouth was on level with his ear.  
"Please join us? You're better than Zayn, you know..." For a second I thought he would pull away, but he pulled me closer. His grip was strangely strong, for someone so drunk. I could smell the alcohol on him, mixed with the familiar scent of Armani Code.  
"No way I'm better than Zayn," he breathed, turning his face. For a split second, with him facing me head on, I thought maybe my plan had worked too well. But he turned his head to the window a second later.  
"I can promise you are." He was silent for a moment.  
"Fine, I'll join." I felt a giant smile spread across my face. "But I'm warning you, the other lads might not be as happy about it."  
"Bull, they'll be thrilled." I reached over the back of the front seats and tapped Liam on the shoulder.  
"Li, would you mind if Louis joined the band?" Liam gave me a slightly unfocused confused look.  
"I though he was already part of it."  
"There ya go. Settled. We ask Niall once he wakes up, and we ask Zayn once I'm done beating the shit out of him."  
January 4  
Liam  
"I'm just a teenage dirtbag baby, yea I'm just a teenage dirtbag..." I sang under my breath, folding my boxers neatly and adding them to the pile on the counter. Without looking, I reached into the drier to grab the next piece of clothing and...  
...nothing.  
One very valuable shirt was missing.  
My Jones Show shirt, the one I had bought at their concert with Niall. Where was it? I stuck my head into the drier, hoping to find it stuck in the corner. It wasn't there. I checked back in the washing machine. It wasn't there either. How the hell...?  
"Mum!" I yelled, slamming the drier door shut. She walked in with her hair in a turban wearing a bathrobe.  
"For heaven's sake Liam, I thought I taught you how to use the washer-"  
"It's not that, it's my Jones Show shirt, have you seen it?"  
"The grey one from that concert?"  
"That's the one."  
"Sorry, dear, I haven't seem it around. I guess it got lost to the laundry." She gave me a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and headed out the door.  
This called for action.  
***  
"So wait- you called us here just to tell us you lost some shirt? Are you serious?" sighed Louis, picking at his fingernails. We were gathered in the bomb shelter. Everyone else was lazing around on the couches while I paced back and forth.  
"It's more than just some shirt! It's what brought us together. Zayn! Do you remember when Niall was taking a piss and you walked in and said you liked his shirt? That was this shirt! It started it all!" I wailed, burying my face in a pillow. When I resurfaced, Zayn was glaring at Niall from his corner.  
We had banished Zayn to the corner of the shelter as punishment for walking out on us. Louis tried to make a dunce cap, but we couldn't find a piece of paper big enough. He refused to tell us where he had been. Harry had been surprisingly angry at him; he had even threatened to kick him out of the band. It seemed to me that he had trusted Zayn more than he should have.  
"So now what? We hold a funeral for it? Honestly Liam, it's not that big a deal," said Niall.  
"Niall, that shirt represented us. It was our symbol."  
"So... we need a new symbol?"  
"Right. Now, I've been trying to think of some, but, I've got nothing. Any ideas?" Blank stares. Louis and Harry looked at each other, and a slow smile crossed Harry's face.  
"I've got an idea."  
"Write it down." I pushed the pen and paper I had brought towards him. He took them and began to scribble furiously. When he was done, he held it up. It was a drawing of an erect penis. A rather detailed one, unfortunately. He beamed at us.  
Louis was laughing hard. "See- it's like one- one direction- but like, one erection." Niall started to giggle. I snatched the paper back and erased it. Can't they take anything seriously?  
"Enough messing around. Let's let Zayn have a go, shall we?" Zayn turned around from facing the corner.  
"A go at what?"  
"Designing a symbol for us. And do you mind actually listening every once and a while?"  
"Kind of difficult when you're in the corner."  
"Bollocks, I'm sure you can hear just fine. Now draw." He rolled his eyes and grabbed the paper. Silently taking in the faint remnants of Harry's erection, he began to draw.  
He shielded it from our eyes until he was done. Then he held it up for us.  
It was brilliantly simple. One Direction, written in flowing script ending in an arrow.  
"That's stupid," snorted Louis. I glared at him. For once, Zayn does something useful, and Louis has to go and be pissy.  
"I think it's brilliant. Niall, Harry...?" Harry looked up from the floor and squinted at it.  
"Rather simple, isn't it...?"  
"Exactly, that's what makes it so good! Zayn, we're using it." He nodded and turned back to the wall.  
February 14  
Zayn  
I was fairly sure I was back in their good graces, but just to be sure, I stopped by the shop to get chocolates for the boys in celebration of Valentine's.  
"Zayn, you shouldn't have!" smiled Niall, picking out the biggest one and biting into it with a blissful expression.  
Harry grinned ear to ear and picked two- one that he ate, and another that he fed to Louis. Louis chewed approvingly. He nodded to me. "Very good idea, Zayn. A man after my own heart."  
"Now, down to business. As you all know, the school prom is coming up-"  
"I wouldn't know. I dropped out," pointed out Louis.  
"I don't even go to your school," shrugged Harry.  
"Like Niall, Zayn and I know, the school prom is coming up-"  
"In, like, four months," snorted Niall, grabbing more chocolate. I groaned.  
"Fine! Prom. We should play there." Everyone was silent for a moment, considering it. Louis looked amused, like there was some irony to it. Then Harry shook his head.  
"It was bad enough playing in front of a bunch of adults and kids. I can't do it in front of high schoolers. They'll laugh."  
"No, they'll be busy sucking each other's tongues and awkwardly dancing. There will be no time for laughter," Louis said in a serious tone. I could hear a note of kindness under it, though. Louis couldn't be mean to Harry. It seemed to go against his very being.  
Liam started in again. "Harry, we need you. You're the only one who can hit every note-"  
"Oh, stop," Harry squealed, waving his hand. This earned a collective eye roll.  
"Anyways, you've got to play with us. This could be our big kick off. If we get this gig, we become part of people's memories. Oh, honey, remember our prom where One Direction played? Remember when-"  
"We get it. I mean, I'm up for it. Niall?" He nodded.  
"Harry, we're all nervous. But think about it. It'll be great, and anyways, who doesn't want to go to two proms?" I asked, praying for a yes. He looked torn. On one hand, I could tell he was itching to say yes. He wanted us to get more popular as much as I did, but on the other hand, saying yes would mean agreeing to performing in front of hundreds of kids our age. How we performed, how good we were, things like these could make or break us.  
He breathed out, looking down.  
"Okay, lets do this."  
Louis closed his eyes and wiped his forehead comically. Liam grinned and clasped his hands together. Niall nodded with approval. I just smiled.  
"Alright, so I'll get it arranged with the principal. Very well, this will be fantastic..."  
After that, we played a couple songs. We decided we would need a whole new set list for prom, seeing as we all felt we needed a change. After a couple minutes and many insults (mostly from Louis) we settled on Summer of 69, Torn, Chasing Cars, Viva La Vida, and the one we couldn't let go of, Teenage Dirtbag. We were all to find out how to play the parts for each song. I guess it showed that we didn't really know how to be a proper band, because I'm very sure that's not how it goes.  
But we had what we really needed- determination. For a while, I'll admit, my heart wasn't in it. One Direction was a side project, something to keep me busy and keep me from using up all my weed at once. (I will admit, I've cut down since. I suppose I was more of a boredom smoker than anything, and between school and the band, I didn't have much time to be bored anymore.) This whole band was growing on me. Liam and his childish tendencies. Niall and his energy. Louis and his big personality. Even Harry and his charm. Somewhere, I fit in. Zayn and his... laziness? I hadn't a clue, but it worked. We worked.  
March 5  
Louis  
I never thought I would be this low.  
Getting kicked out of school for crashing the teachers' lounge and participating in the bombing of the teachers with glitter? That was bad, I'll admit it. I never got to even finish high school.  
Then going home to my mum, knowing she had gotten the phone home from school. I wasn't kicked out immediately. When I first walked through the door, she just sighed and pointed upwards. I didn't know if it was her asking me to pray or to go upstairs, so I just walked upstairs.  
The next few weeks were absolute hell. She even called up my dad to tell him. I thought he even might have come down to Doncaster and yell at me, but one phone call and we haven't heard to from him since.  
My mum and I fought every day. She wanted me to let her pay for a private school next year, but I refused. I couldn't let her drop that much money on me after I had messed up so bad.  
It only took three weeks for me to pack my bags and leave. I just couldn't keep doing this to her and my sisters.  
Thankfully my friend Stan from Cheshire had taken me in. I had been living with him for four years.  
And here I was, at Harry's doorstep with my bags packed up in the back of my borrowed car praying for a yes.  
Tentatively, I knocked on the door. I almost thought nobody was home, but then Gemma pulled the door open. She was in pajama pants and a sports bra, and looking very confused and slightly pissed.  
"Band meetings are seven on Saturday nights, did you forget that or...?"  
"I just want to talk to Harry." She rolled her eyes and widened the door, letting me through.  
Instead of taking the usual route downstairs, I followed Gemma into the kitchen.  
Harry and his mum were sitting at a small Formica table, having toast. His mum looked very surprised at the sight of me.  
"Hello, you must be one of Harry's bandmates, Liam, right?"  
"Louis, actually. Nice to formally meet you, Mrs. Styles." I reached out my hand over the table to her, and she put down her toast and shook it with a bemused expression.  
"You could have called," mumbled Harry, wiping his mouth of crumbs. He was wearing a ratty Ramones shirt and his hair was a bees nest.  
"Yea, about that, uhm, could I borrow Harry for a couple minutes?" I asked, biting my fingernail. Harry looked back at his mum and Gemma, then followed me into the hallway.  
"What's up, Lou?"  
"Alright, so, you know how I live with Stan at his flat?" He nodded.  
"Well... not anymore. I kind of had to leave. Well, maybe he sort of kicked me out." He raised his eyebrows.  
"And El and I broke up." The eyebrows raised a bit more.  
"So... can I crash at your place for the next few weeks? Just until Stan gets over himself and lets me back to his house, and-" A grin too big for ten in the morning spread across his face.  
"You could sleep in the bomb shelter! It would be fantastic, like one big sleepover!" Even I was smiling despite my shitty mood. But then I remembered the decision wasn't up to us.  
"Er, Harry, can you break the news to your mum? I'm not sure she'd be thrilled." The smile became a more serious expression.  
"Right, of course, let's go break the news..." We walked back into the kitchen. Gemma had taken Harry's seat and was finishing off his toast.  
"Mum, I have something to ask of you. Can Louis stay for a couple weeks, he's in a rough patch and needs to get back on his feet..."  
His mum looked skeptical.  
"Harry, you know I'm always open to having your friends over, but a few weeks? I just-"  
I was busy praying and nearly jumped when I felt Harry's hand reach for mine.  
"Please?"  
***  
"Here, I'll just pull out the couch, we've got some extra sheets upstairs-"  
"Harry." For a second, he didn't turn, he simply stood with his back to me. I could practically feel his sigh from across the room, where I was wrapped in one of the Styles' plaid blankets.  
"Yes?"  
"What the fuck was that?" He turned to me. Surprisingly, he was smiling a bit.  
"Shouldn't you have guessed? If she thought we were dating, then she was sure to let you stay. And here you are, babe." My eyes practically popped open. This was a side of Harry I hadn't seen before. Well, that is...  
"I'm going to go get some sheets and when I come back down, I want the full story." He turned away from me and started back up the spiral staircase.  
That is, since the wedding.  
I could feel my face heating up just thinking about it. Why was I thinking about it? I had been drunk, we both were. I wasn't into him or anything. I wasn't into men, period. It didn't mean anything, I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it... and I didn't want to lose Harry over some stupid crush or something.  
My train of thought was broken by Harry's footsteps. He was carrying a stack of blankets and a couple sodas. It looked as though he had combed his hair a little, which kind of made me feel weird. I tried hard to shake those thoughts out of my mind as I accepted one of the sodas.  
"So... how did this all start?"  
"Well...."  
It was another one of those parties at Stan's friend Grimmy's house. This time, I had opted out. Eleanor had called me up asking for me to come, but I turned her down. I was positive it was her trying to get some alone time, seeing as we hadn't had any in a while. It was hard and getting harder to make time for her with the band calling my attention.  
So I stayed home. Stan was out for the night, and I had quite a lot of fun walking around in my boxers playing around with an old banjo he had, playing random chords and making up goofy lyrics as I went. Sometimes I forget how nice it feels to be on my own, if only for a night.  
Around one in the morning, El walked in completely pissed and fell practically fell onto the couch next to me.  
"Oh god Lou, that was the..." she took a deep breath- "best party. But I had to run here, because I told Hannah I needed a ride and she was like, I'll drive you to your street, but like, I have a curfew and I can't waste any time, and-"  
"El."  
"Yea?"  
"Get yourself to bed." I got up from the couch and walked towards the kitchen. "I'll put the kettle on, just get yourself to bed."  
"Louis..."  
"Yes?"  
"Come over here." I sighed and walked back to the couch.  
"Yes love?" She reached for my hand, and I let her take it.  
"I miss you." I smiled sadly.  
"I'm right here."  
"No you're not. You're off with your bandmates, as usual. I can see it. You haven't been here for a while." I slipped my hand out of her grasp. I didn't want to have this conversation again.  
"I told you, it's a full time job. The lads and I are playing at the high school prom and we've got a whole new setlist to learn-"  
"Shouldn't I be more important?" she said coldly, standing up unsteadily. "I'm sick of coming in second to some dumb high school kids I haven't even met. For the love of god, we've been dating for two years and you've never been this distant. Is there something you're not telling me?" The image of Harry in that stupid flower crown flashed by unbidden. I shook my head.  
"Then what is it?"  
"Maybe you're not the most important thing in my life!" I yelled, jumping up from the couch. "Maybe I've found something that makes me happy and you're just angry because I'm not lying on my arse all day waiting for you to stop by!" Eleanor's eyes narrowed. Wordlessly, she stomped over to the kitchen and knocked the kettle off the burner. It fell to the floor and smashed to pieces. I groaned and dropped my head into my hands.  
"Please, just get out. I can't have you wrecking the flat, Stan will kill me-"  
"You want me gone? Fine, I'm gone." She grabbed her handbag and walked out shakily, slamming the door behind her.  
I sat for a few minutes with my head in my hands. I didn't know if El was coming back. Maybe I'd wake up tomorrow morning and find her in the kitchen, with dark circles and a wicked hangover, ready to make peace. But that wasn't her style.  
A few minutes later, Stan walked in, looking a bit tipsy. It felt like a rerun of a bad movie.  
"Louis, why are you up so late? It's way too- wait a second, what the hell happened to my kettle?" His voice went from light and playful to hard and angry within a second. He knelt down to assess the damage.  
"Louis, what the actual fuck? That was my mother's! She's going to be pissed, oh man..."  
"El did that." I didn't face him. I lifted my head out of my hands and turned on the TV to soccer. Stan stomped over and snatched the remote from me.  
"Okay, where is she now?"  
"She left. We broke up." I took back the remote and tried turning up the volume, but he snatched it back.  
"So what? Now you're just a loser without a girlfriend? What did it for her? The obsession with your little band? Or was it the fact that she suspects you're gay?" I shot out of my seat.  
"Fuck you, Stan. Seriously, just fuck you. I'm not in the mood."  
"Neither am I. Maybe it's time you got off your ass and did something for once. I'm tired of paying more than half the rent for you to sit here and watch soaps all day-"  
"That was one time-"  
"So I'd prefer if you found somewhere else to do so."  
I faced him head on. There was a slight flush on his cheeks, but his eyes looked dead sober.  
"Are you suggesting I move out?"  
"Yea, that's what I'm suggesting." He turned away from me and walked out, coming back with a broom and dustpan.  
"Clean up your mess and you can use the junk car to find yourself a new place in the morning. Maybe you should go back to your mum, I'm sure she's missed you." He spoke the words with quiet venom, then turned on his heels and walked out.  
"And that's how I ended up here."  
Harry was quiet for a moment, letting it all sink in. Then, without words, he walked over to the cabinet and pulled out one of his old grey beanies. He proceeded to pull it over my head and smile.  
"Welcome to the Styles family."  
April 18, 2013  
Niall  
Last year and the year before that, Liam and I would sit with all the extra kids, the left over ones, during lunch. I guess the two of us never really fit into any group, so we resigned to our unpopularity and made off fine.  
But this year, my year eleven and Liam's year twelve, things changed big time. Zayn would invite us to sit with him and his stoner friends, and for a while Liam said no, but soon enough he gave in.  
The conversations they had were just plain weird. One time, three of them ended up in a huge fight over who should have won X Factor a couple years back. Liam and I would sit back and take it all in.  
The strangest part was the female attention. I guess some of Zayn's mysterious air rubbed off, because suddenly girls were giving me the time of day. A girl named Maura from my math class always volunteered to help me with my math homework, despite my protests that I didn't need any help. Then there was the looks I got when girls saw me with Zayn. They ranged from subtle glances in our direction to full blown stares.  
I asked him one day how he put up with it. He was driving Liam and I to Harry's for practice one day, and he was smoking a cigarette, which he had insisted was better than weed because he "didn't have money for the amount of fags I wanted to buy".  
When I brought up the staring, he smiled and put out the cigarette on his steering wheel, which showed signs of continued abuse.  
"Man, I just find it so funny. They think I'm such a mystery just because I don't talk to much and I smoke. But they never take a second to try and get to know me. They just stare."  
***  
My chemistry textbook was being a very big pain in the arse. I shoved it in sideways, upside down, nothing was working. Guess I'd have to try to fit it into Liam's impeccable locker. I groaned and slammed my locker shut, only to find someone standing right in front of me.  
"For fuck's sake, Zayn, you gave me half a heart attack. What is it?"  
"I need to talk. Come with me." Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed my arm and pulled me away. I dropped my textbook on the ground near my locker and prayed that nobody was intent on stealing it.  
Zayn guided me through the crowd of students pushing to their next class. People parted with ease, without even looking at us. It was strange. Weren't they curious as to who was violently shoving them to the side? Or did they just want to get to their next class without a detention slip? School turns you to a zombie, I swear.  
Finally, we slowed down. It was the door to outside. I widened my eyes, but he pulled it right open and practically shoved me outside. I watched as his eyes darted back inside, then he closed the door carefully.  
"Okay, what on Earth is so important?"  
"I think the band should take a break. A hiatus, you know, just for a couple weeks..." I made a face.  
"What- why? We just secured prom, how can we just take a break now? I've still got to find out the chords for Summer of 69, and I haven't even started the other songs!"  
"Yea, but you can learn those on your own. You have so far, right?"  
"I can learn them on my own, but it's weird playing without backup. How am I supposed to know how I'm playing if I'm missing the rest of the band?"  
"Don't worry, you're great on the guitar. I'm sure-"  
"Zayn, you still haven't told me why you even want to take a break." He leaned up against the door and sighed. I could tell he was itching for a cigarette, his hand smoothed over his left pocket searching for the bulge of a pack and clenched when it didn't find one.  
"For one, my grades are shit. I'm one homework away from flunking out of History, and my maths teacher has threatened to call up my parents to tell them about my two failed tests."  
"So that's it? We all disband because you can't get a grip on your schoolwork?" He balled his hands tighter.  
"It's not just that. I think we all need a break from each other. It's too bad we can't give that to Harry and Louis, they're the ones who need it the most..." Ever since Louis has moved to the Styles house, the two of them had become even more touchy feely. It had become so that sometimes I wondered if what they had was completely platonic. But Louis wasn't the type I'd pin down as... was I stereotyping? Probably. I hated doing it, but my predictions were usually correct.  
"I doubt those two want a break from each other."  
"True. Okay, so..." he reached into his right pocket and pulled out his cell. "Emergency meeting after school?" I sighed a little. I could do without a hiatus, but I'd still get to talk to the guys during it. It was nothing I couldn't handle.  
"Call them up. Now, you're glad you caught me during free period, but that doesn't mean you can do this again." Zayn nodded and held the door open for me as I walked back in to an empty hallway.  
***  
"Meeting- to order!" Louis banged his spoon loudly on the side of his mug. He looked far too comfortable, all snuggled up in the plaid blanket he seemed to have adopted since moving in with Harry. Speaking of Harry, he was upstairs putting on some tea for us (Louis' second cup). Liam looked positively frightened. Neither Niall or I would let on what the meeting was about. Only Louis seemed at ease.  
"So, care to explain what this is all about? I'm sweating here," joked Liam nervously. My eyes fixated on Zayn expectantly.  
"Alright, lads, I was just thinking... maybe we should-"  
"Tea, anybody?" Harry yelled as he came into view. He was holding a tray with five mugs places precariously on it and a big grin. Zayn's face went sour. If there was one thing he hated, it was being interrupted.  
We took our respective cups and thanked him. He sat down on the couch next to Louis and looked at us all with an easy smile on his face. "What did I miss?"  
"Uhm, as I was saying, I think maybe we should take a break. A month or so to ourselves. I don't know about you lads, but my grades have been down and getting worse. Plus, maybe we could all use a break from each other. Any... thoughts?"  
Louis looked shocked. Harry looked confused. Liam looked relieved, as if he had thought the announcement was going to be that Zayn was pregnant or something.  
Harry spoke up first. "I guess we could do that, I mean, we can work on our parts on our own, right?" Liam and I nodded. I was just glad they weren't getting too upset. Until-  
"Whose dumb idea was this?" Of course, it was Louis. He had put down his mug and looked as though someone had forgotten to sugar his tea.  
"Mine," said Zayn with a shrug. I'm fairly sure Zayn was the only one not scared of Louis. Maybe because he was the closest in age to him, I don't know.  
"Well, can I just say, if we're taking some stupid hiatus, I'm not coming back afterwards." I think all of our eyes went straight to Harry. He looked like he had just been told Christmas was cancelled.  
"What the hell are you talking about?" I snorted. He was surely talking out of his ass. Trying to cause trouble.  
"I mean, I've about had it with this band. You guys are always fighting and getting angry and can't even focus on the music. Come back any better, and I'll be surprised." Louis took a sip of his tea and then looked at all of us expectantly. His eyes didn't meet Harry's.  
"Fine, so be it. We were doing just fine before you came." Liam said with finality. Louis stiffened, but nodded. And with that, Zayn got up and started heading up the staircase. Liam followed. And finally, with a sympathetic look to Harry, I got up and started walking upstairs.  
I caught up to Liam. "One down, four to go, huh?" I joked weakly. But I don't think any joke could make light of this. Who were we kidding? Louis was as much a part of the band as any of us. We weren't One Direction without him. How could we just let him leave?  
"Sh- I think I hear something," whispered Liam, slapping a hand over my mouth. I tried licking his hand, but it stayed put.  
Soft voices floated up.  
"Lou, you know they weren't being serious. We need you in the band-"  
"No, you don't. I'm the second guitarist and backup vocals. If anything, you'll be better off without me."  
"You know that's not true."  
"Quit telling me what I do and don't know. And quit calling me Lou, it's girly and dumb." Silence. Then his voice came back, this time with venom I could feel from halfway up the staircase.  
"I didn't join the band for you, Harry. And you can't talk me back into it." I winced under Liam's hand. Because I'm almost positive that Harry would have signed up for the band in a heartbeat if it had been Louis who has asked him.  
"I think we'd better leave, lads." Zayn said quietly from a couple steps up. Liam finally removed his hand and wiped it on his pants. We all slowly made our way up the staircase.  
Maybe the hiatus wasn't that good an idea.  
May 18  
Harry  
If there is one thing I've learned from being in One Direction, it's that being in One Direction was a bad idea.  
When Louis emerged from the basement this morning, I looked down intently at my cereal. We hadn't been doing the whole "over the top gay couple" act for my mom in a couple weeks. Gemma teased me about it, asking if there was trouble in paradise or if we had just ran out of condoms. I waved her off. She had no idea.  
"Morning, love," said my mom in a chipper voice, sitting down at the table with a fresh cup of tea. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Louis sit down across from me. He was holding a folded paper in his hands.  
"Big news," he remarked casually, and I allowed myself to look up. Big mistake.  
Ten in the morning, and his hair was a mess, eyes tired but smiling, lazy limbs collapsed into the chair. And he looked gorgeous. I averted my eyes again. Don't think like that, don't think about that. You know he doesn't look at you like that.  
"What's the news?" I asked, concentrating on my cereal.  
"I'm going to be a camp counsellor over the summer. Says I start June 21."  
"That's the day after prom!" I blurted out, then nearly clasped my hand over my mouth. He wasn't part of the band anymore. What did he care if it was the day after prom?  
"Indeed. So while I thank you for letting me stay here, I can assure you I'll only be here for a month or so."  
"Louis, you know you're not a burden. Stay as long as you need," sighed my mom. I could tell another mouth to feed wasn't exactly what she needed, but it was hard not to like Louis. She couldn't kick him out if she tried.  
"Thanks, Anne. Well, I've got to go get dressed." He got up, and as he passed me, he ran a hand through my hair. I stayed still even after he left. I didn't want his touch if it was just an act.  
My mum's eyes were concentrated on me, I could tell. So I finally looked up.  
"Honey, is there anything going on with you two? It seems like you've been ignoring each other."  
"No, mum, everything's fine. We're fine." I picked up my mostly full cereal bowl and dumped it in the sink, then headed out into the hallway. "Gotta go get ready, the lads are coming over today," I called.  
The first One Direction meeting in a month. If I was being honest, I missed the boys like hell. It must have been easy for them; they all go to school together. Me, I was alone at the tiny high school in my town. I didn't have many friends, so it wasn't like there was anyone to talk to about the band or inform that I've memorised the lyrics to every song. There was nobody there, and now I hardly had Louis.  
Going into the shelter just felt weird, especially since I only went Louis was at work, and his clothes were strewn everywhere. The make shift bed was never made, and half the time there would be a cup of cold coffee sitting on the table. I didn't have to check to know that it was black with enough sugar to excite a small kindergarten class. Just how he likes it.  
The rest of the day was spent waiting in my room. I kept my favourite guitar up there. Granted, I had never had a formal education in playing. But I knew a few basic chords and I knew how to read music. So I picked at the strings and hummed. I had tried learning some classic rock before, but apparently the guitar work on them is far above my level, which was about zero. Easy songs it is.  
An hour before the boys arrived, there was a knock on my door. My hands had grown tired, so I laid the guitar to the side and was watching the shadows trail across my ceiling. Boredom- the plague of the lonely.  
I got up and opened the door. Just my luck. Louis.  
"Yes, Louis?" Strangely, he looked nervous. He was tugging at his shirt and wouldn't meet my eyes.  
"Er... can I come in?" I opened the door to let him through. He stepped in and immediately went to sit down in the beanbag chair. It nearly swallowed him, and I stifled a laugh. Only Louis.  
"So... what brings you to this neck of the woods?" I said cautiously, closing the door and going to sit on my bed. He still wouldn't meet my eyes.  
"Well, um, I was just wondering if you guys could still use another guitarist, because I just kind of realised that this band is pretty much the most important thing I've got, and-" I didn't even let him finish. Forgetting all my careful walls I had set up, I jumped off the bed and quite literally tackled Louis in a hug.  
It felt too damn good to have my arms around him, my face buried in his neck, his laughter in my ears. The beanbag was hardly big enough for the two of us, so I slowly released him and looked up at his face. I'll be damned if my face wasn't shining with happiness, and I didn't even care if he saw it.  
"Alright, alright, it's not that exciting. Just dust off the old guitar and lets give the lads a surprise, shall we?"  
***  
Niall was the first to arrive. He was standing in the doorway with a huge smile. Just seeing him felt like finally coming home.  
"Harry! I've been so bored all day waiting for this, and you know how my mum won't buy me a guitar? So I was up in my room playing air guitar to my Bon Jovi CD for, like, two hours, and-" I watched his eyes latch onto Louis, who was shyly looking around the door. His face flew from happy to pissed within a second or two.  
"I thought you had left the band?" he huffed, walking through the threshold and into the room. Louis closed the door before facing him.  
"Well... I asked Harry if I could have back in, and he said yes, and I know I have to clear it with the rest of you lads but-" The smile he had when he first walked in returned.  
"Come here, you dumb loaf of bread." He pulled him into a tight hug. Louis's eyebrows raised, but he hugged back with full force. It's hard to resist a hug from Niall. He was just so damn good at giving hugs. He has a habit of burying his face into your neck and holding you tight.  
When he pulled away, he moved towards the basement.  
"Lets get this show on the road! We've only got a month until prom and five new songs to rehearse, go go go!"  
***  
One very enthusiastic reunion, several bad jokes, four 'Louis why are you here' moments, and four 'Louis if you pull that again I will personally put a foot up your arse' moments later, we were all sitting on the couches, Louis and I on his pullout couch, reviewing the past month.  
"Man, the teachers here are cracking down. It's not even close to the end of the term and they're telling us we should start studying for final exams." Zayn was sporting some new hairdo, one that sort of made him resemble an anime character. It suited him though, it took away from the bad boy look that was rather misleading.  
"Guess what lads?" said Niall slyly, leaning back into the seat with his arms crossed. Liam rolled his eyes; I'm fairly sure this was a story he had already heard.  
"What?"  
"So this girl from my school named Maura? The one who always asks me if I need help with my maths? Well, she asked me if I wanted to go on a date with her sometime." Over the course of telling this story, his face grew more and more smug.  
"So... did you say yes?"  
"No, I've got to practice with my band." Liam dropped his head into his hands.  
"She was a perfectly nice girl, Niall."  
"She doubted my math skills."  
I snorted and grabbed at the bowl of crisps I had set out. Nobody seemed to be eating them, so I suppose I had to. I cleared my throat.  
"I hate to cut this short, but my mum said you guys have got to be out by eight thirty. So if you'll kindly-"  
"Yea yea, put the equipment away and get going. Later, Harry, Louis." Niall was the first up. Liam and Zayn followed shortly after. That left just Louis and I on the makeshift bed. The a sense of the rest of the boys felt like a physical being.  
I fiddled with the edge of the bedding. Don't meddle, you don't want to leave his good graces. As many times as I told myself that, I couldn't resist.  
"So... I have a question."  
"Yea?"  
"Why did you really come back to the band?" I could tell he had been expecting this. He slid off the bed and started pacing.  
"For one, what I told you was true. This whole One Direction deal, it's the most important thing I've got. I've been pretty much a couch potato for the past few years and I don't want to be that again."  
"And for two?"  
"You really want to know?" I nodded. He turned his back to me, but I could still hear his faint words.  
"I came back for you." And with that, he headed up the staircase.  
June 20  
8:00 AM  
Liam  
First verse man. That's what I'm known as. It's a lot of pressure, but I think I'm capable.  
Nobody's here yet. Just me and the boys, fiddling with the equipment. The unaired nervousness and excitement was palpable in the air. Even though Niall had already got his guitar tuned and strapped to his shoulder, he's obsessively wiping at it. By the time we actually perform, it's quite possible that its shine will blind the promgoers. I would tell him that, but I doubt he would laugh. Even giggle box Niall was high strung tonight.  
Harry was looking the worst off. Of course. He had been nervous from the start. Half the time I wanted to shake his shoulders and yell at him, this isn't even your high school! You don't need to face these people on Monday morning and pray to God they're kind and don't mock you for being in a band! But that wouldn't help a thing. And it would only make poor Harry feel worse.  
Louis had his arm around Harry and was talking to him in a low voice. Trying to calm him down, I figured. The way Harry was leaning into his touch, the way he looked at him... For the hundredth time, I wondered exactly what was going on between those two. If I was going to be honest, it seemed like Harry was head over heels for Louis. But Louis... how did he see Harry? Half the time I could swear he was just as crazy for him, half the time it just seemed unlikely. But I was poking around in something that's none of my business. Let them figure it out on their own.  
And Zayn. Before we had arrived at the school, he couldn't shut up about how Perrie was driving down from uni to see us perform. They didn't see each other often; the school she went to was a highly pretentious performing arts university that wasn't too keen on letting their students do what they want. I had never even met her, and she and Zayn had been dating for over a year. But they made time for each other. I guess that's how they worked.  
Yet since we arrived, he had been silent. I think it scared him being the one on the stage. I had to keep reminding myself that he hadn't gone to Greg's wedding. This was his first gig. I could only hope that he would recover soon enough.  
There was a knock on the double doors. We all looked at each other with confusion. Nobody was supposed to be here for another ten minutes. I hopped off the stage and walked to the doors. Just as I was about to open them-  
"LIAM, BREAKFAST!"  
My eyes flew open. It took a second to register that I was home, I was in my bed. And god, was I tired. I had to quite literally drag myself out of bed with my arms. Today was prom. And I had one hell of a day in front of me. 

4:00 PM  
Niall  
Why is it that whenever you try and find something, it's in the last place you check? Yea, it was inconvenient, but try looking for an hour straight and not finding anything. Try doing that while your cell is ringing off the hook because four angry band members are wondering where the hell you are.  
I finally grabbed the phone and hit talk without looking at caller ID. "I will be there in twenty fucking minutes, have a little patience," I snarled. When silence ensued, I could feel myself draining of anger. It was out of character for me to be so pissed, but I was already freaking out over prom, and I didn't need the extra stress of losing my favourite shirt on top of that.  
"Niall, you really ought to get annoyed more often. It excites me." I sighed with relief. It was Sean, a family friend from back in Mullingar. I had moved when I was five, but Sean and I had been close enough friends to stay in touch.  
"What're you calling for?" I picked up a pair of jeans and sniffed them tentatively. Definitely not wearing those.  
"Well, I was going to ask you if you're visiting any time soon, but I'm guessing from the happy greeting that you're not in the mood to talk."  
"I've got a band meeting that I'm already late to and I can't find my shirt."  
"Maybe you should go shirtless. It'll be liberating."  
"Sean, I've really got to go." I didn't want to cut the conversation short, but I was getting desperate. The shirt I had planned on wearing was quite literally nowhere to be found.  
"Yea, I get it, you're trying to get rid of me. Just remember, don't get too nervous. I'm your biggest fan." I smiled as the line went dead. Sarcastic little shit he was, Sean really was a good friend.  
It's official- the shirt is lost. I belly flopped onto my bed, which was as covered in clothes as the rest of the bed. Particularly, I was smothering a white t-shirt that I had forgotten I owned. Slowly, I pulled it out from underneath me. My biggest fan... I had an idea.  
***  
"Alright, you can all breathe easy, the Nialler has arrived," I announced from the staircase. As the basement came into view, I realised I was the last one there. And as expected, Liam looked a little upset about this.  
"Where the hell were you? You'd said twenty minutes, it's been near forty. I do hope you've got a good excuse for-"  
"Speak no more, Payne. I have a masterpiece to unveil." Grinning, I uncrossed my arms and revealed my t-shirt, newly decorated. I had written "One Direction's biggest fan" written with hearts drawn poorly around it. I watched his face switch from angry to incredulous to "Niall please do not pull this shit again".  
"Ha! That's fantastic," said Louis, turning to face us. Him and Zayn looked completely at ease, sharing a bowl of crisps with Harry, who looked nervous but better than he did when we first told him about the gig. In fact, they looked a little too relaxed. As I walked up to them, my eyes widened.  
"Are you guys... stoned?" Louis and Zayn shared a look and then both started giggling.  
"That's a very nice shirt, Niall. We should all decorate our shirts like that," mused Harry. He didn't seem to be high, which made me wonder what he had done while Zayn and Louis were smoking.  
"So... you guys really thought that was a good idea?" Liam finally came and sat next to me on the couch. He looked quite worn out for one in the afternoon. If me showing up late was bad, I can only imagine what it must have been like for him coming here and realising what the boys were up to.  
"Don't worry, Niall. We're done for the day," Zayn assured me.  
"I would hope so. Guys- this is important. We've got to be at the school by seven to set up and stuff-"  
"Which leaves us about three hours. What's up with you? You used to smoke all the time."  
"Not really. I just bought it because I liked saying I had it." Zayn looked at me and squinted.  
"You're a weird kid, Niall." I shrugged and grabbed at the bowl of crisps. If they dealt with their nerves by smoking, so be it. Not much could mess this night up; I wouldn't let it be ruined. 

8:00  
Zayn  
Half hour to show time.  
In the past hour, we'd managed to get all of our equipment set up without any major injuries. We were all sitting in a circle on the stage, and man, were we a sight to look at.  
Louis, covered in tattoos with his hair all messy and spiky, looked more punk rock than high school boy band. Him and Harry were sitting back to back, and Harry's head was resting on Louis's shoulder with his eyes closed. Harry looked at peace, for the first time today. We all knew he had been the most nervous. But now, dressed in a dark grey Ramones shirt with jeans so skinny they could have been painted on, he looked like he couldn't care less.  
Liam's nerves seemed to have caught up to him. He was gnawing at his already destroyed nails and looking at us all nervously. I think he was afraid. Not just of us messing up. But of performing in front of all our classmates. I had long since learned not to let these things get to me, but that had taken years and a lot of bullying to perfect. Liam and Niall were misfits, yes, but they always had each other. If people decided that this made us all outcasts, not even sticking together could help that.  
And Niall. He had been strumming at his guitar, playing the same song over and over again. Sweet Home Alabama. When we first started the band, that was the only song he knew. Now, he knew at least ten songs and could probably write one himself.  
I smiled to myself. It was hard not to be proud of him, of all of us. Even though we were only at our school prom, sitting on a tiny stage in a ballroom, we had made it in our own respect. This was what we had been working towards the whole time: not playing sold out concerts, not platinum CDs. What we really had wanted was respect.  
Harry snorted quietly in his sleep. Louis turned his head slowly and grinned.  
"Would you look at that? He's actually asleep!" Louis laughed. He slid Harry's head off his shoulder and placed it gently on the ground. He looked dead knocked out, which made me wonder how much sleep he got last night. Louis grabbed his bag and took out what appeared to be a flower crown.  
"I figure sleeping beauty needed a tiara." He placed it gently on his head. Harry didn't budge.  
"Have you... were you carrying that around?" asked Niall.  
"Well... sort of? It's just-"  
"Man, please do not try to explain. Whatever gets it up." Louis opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it. 

Ten minutes to show time.  
One of the chaperones came up to us, gave Harry a look, and told us we should probably clear out, as the promgoers would be here soon. Liam and Louis both took one of Harry's arms and pulled him backstage with us. There wasn't much of a backstage really, just a frayed old curtain separating us and the ballroom.  
The room slowly filled with sound. The whispers of dresses dragging on the floor, a crappy speaker system playing some old pop music, the tapping of shoes. And the voices. They were louder than the music, yelling and laughing and making conversation. Everyone seemed to be happy. Behind the curtain was a night everyone was going to remember. And for a moment I felt empty. I wasn't going to be part of the fun. I wasn't dressed up in at tuxedo. My date was stuck in traffic. I was wearing my dad's sports jacket and jeans. Just part of the band.  
My train of thought was wrecked when Harry woke up with a start. He sat up and blinked a couple times. The flower crown slid off his head and fell into the floor behind him.  
"Oh god, we haven't started yet, have we?"  
"Not yet, Haz." Haz...? Did Louis just make that up? "But you'd best be getting up, we're on in ten." Harry slowly stood up, then noticed the flower crown lying on the floor. He smiled at Louis knowingly.  
"You remember?"  
"Of course I do. Now put it on, you look awful handsome in it." Harry picked it up and placed it proudly on his hair. Suddenly, the same chaperone who had told us to leave the stage stuck her head in the room.  
"Be ready to get on there soon, boys. I'll give you the cue." I took a deep breath. Walking out to perform in front of all of my classmates. No big deal. 

Showtime.  
When I first stepped out, right after Liam, I could instantly tell it was a place transformed. The lights were out except for a few spotlights, mostly on the stage. Most of all, the people. Everyone I had grown up with, everyone I'd gone to school with, dressed up and paired up and smiling at us as we took the stage. The room had been empty without the energy they gave off.  
My hands were shaking, but I picked up my guitar and assumed position. Liam took to the mic, leaving Harry standing awkwardly to the side.  
He tapped the mic and jumped a bit when it screeched. "Um, hello."  
Blank stares. He swallowed audibly.  
"As you probably know, we're One Direction. I'm Liam, this is Zayn-" he gestured to me. I gave a small wave and smile. "And Niall, and Louis, and Harry. We're starting off with a song called Summer of 69. Does anybody know the words?" A good amount of the hands were raised. People were smiling now, whispering to their dates. Not maliciously. I think we all just wanted to know how we'd perform.  
"Alright, if you know the words, sing along, alright? Harry's probably going to need some help-"  
"That's it, gimme my mic." Some laughter erupted as Harry snatched the microphone back from Liam, who made a grumpy face and went to go sit at the drum set. Harry fumbled with the mic for a bit before he brought it up to his height. At least he had the good sense not to tap at it.  
"That was Liam, our bands' comedian. We're just going to play now." He stepped back from the mic and waited for the music to begin. 

9:00  
Harry  
Summer of 69, we were nervous. Torn, we were getting a little more into it. People were singing along, mostly girls. Chasing Cars, I could feel that people were warming up to us. I think one boy in a white tux was crying, but I wasn't sure. Viva la vida, we really gave our all. Niall sang a part on it, and even though it was a bit of a joke to him, he really put a lot into it and he got applause that lasted into the chorus.  
Teenage Dirtbag nearly brought the house down.  
I had to hand it to myself. I sang damn well. I tried to improv some extra "yea"s and "ooh"s until Zayn started giving me the death stare, but apart from that, it went great. Louis' guitar solo (which was to go to Niall if he hadn't rejoined the band) was the best he'd ever performed.  
We all joined hands and took our final bow. As we started to walk backstage, Liam suddenly threw his arm out to stop us.  
"Guys- do you hear that?" At first I thought I was imagining it. Then I started grinning. We slowly turned around and, bewildered, walked back on stage.  
"So you say you want an encore?" I asked, my smile still wide. They all nodded and yelled their agreement. I turned to the boys, asking them silently what we should do. They exchanged a look. I raised an eyebrow and Niall nodded.  
"We'll be singing Forever Young." Surprisingly, there was a lot of clapping. I guess the people at this school really liked eighties music.  
Niall started the guitar. It was a little shaky. Truthfully, we weren't that good at performing Forever Young. We only practiced with it because it was one of Louis's favourite songs. But we would give it our all, and hope it was enough.  
"Let's dance in style, let's dance for a while..."  
***  
As soon as we finished to thundering applause, Zayn motioned for us all to follow him backstage. We left the prom goers behind and followed him back. Waiting there was a pretty blonde girl wearing a huge smile.  
"Zayn!" He picked her up and spun her around, the two of them smiling like it was their birthday. So this was the infamous Perrie. We waited until he put her down to get a proper introduction.  
"Boys, this is Perrie. She came from all the way from Cardiff for this- which was far too long a drive anyways, I told you I could have picked you up-"  
"Don't be daft, it was fine." She had a thick accent but a nice voice. One that made me wonder if she went to her performing arts college for singing. "You lads were fantastic, and Zayn was telling me you weren't that good-"  
"Excuse me, Zayn?" Louis said in a miffed tone. He had squished in the spot next to me and was standing dangerously close. I could feel the heat of his body, his slightly laboured breath. In fact, ever since the whole rejoining the band thing, I've been wondering.  
Louis never stopped kidding around. So why should that have been any different? I had seen the way he looked at Eleanor. There was no doubt in my mind he liked girls. Was it crazy to think I could be an exception?  
And then tomorrow he would be leaving. Moving right out for the next two months. I wasn't even sure how I would deal with that.  
But those were matters to deal with later. Here, I had to just be part of the band. It was no secret we wouldn't be playing much over the summer. Louis wasn't the only one I was saying goodbye to.  
Zayn looked a little flustered. "I didn't mean it like that. I mean, that was months ago..."  
"Ah, it's whatever, mate. I don't mind you trash talking us, as long as you know you're the weak spot of the band," Niall said cheerfully, patting him on the shoulder.  
"No I'm not! I think that would be you, Mr. It took me an hour to find a shirt this morning!" I was busy watching the boys fight and almost jumped when I heard a voice in my ear.  
"What do you say we get out of here for a bit?" I bit back my smile at the sound of Louis' voice.  
"Let's."

9:15  
Louis  
I was going to do it.  
There was only tonight. I left tomorrow for that stupid camp. And if I left before I could make things right, I don't know if I could forgive myself.  
We slipped out of the dark backstage and into the lit corridor. It was empty. I was almost positive my heart was beating out of my chest.  
Harry turned to me. I couldn't bear the look on his face. He looked so confused and hopeful. And above all, absolutely gorgeous. God, how did I fall for him, of all people? A seventeen year old boy who wore skinny jeans and couldn't tell a joke to save his life.  
"So... what are we doing out here?" he asked tentatively, leaning up against the wall.  
"Well..." I was going to do it. I was really going to do it. Feeling as though my heart would burst right out of my chest, I faced him, with my hands on the wall behind him. His eyes widened slightly.  
"It's just that I'm leaving tomorrow, and I won't see you- any of you, for over a month, and I just-" He grinned.  
"Wanted to give me something to remember you by?" he said mockingly, crossing his arms. I snorted.  
"Don't be an idiot, you'll remember me just fine. That glorious Louis Tomlinson, the best-"  
"Lou?"  
"Yes?"  
"Shut up." With that, he leaned in.  
When he kissed me, it felt like the one thing I had been missing my whole life. I dropped my hands from the wall and pulled him closer by his curls. God, they were impossibly soft. He kissed me softly at first, then as his hands found my waist, he deepened it, his mouth opening slightly. I pulled away for a moment to catch my breath. His eyes were hooded in a way that made my stomach tighten.  
"I've been wanting to do that for months now," I whispered, unable to keep from smiling. He leaned in again, giggling as he pressed a light kiss to my lower lip.  
"You have no clue how long I've been waiting." Just as I was about to pull him to me again, a voice called out from the doorway, making us both jump.  
"Louis, Harry, we've got to go! My mom is waiting outside and your only ride home!" It was Liam. I sighed.  
"If only we could stay for the rest of the prom. I'd like to see how the students here fancy my dancing skills," I commented, taking Harry's hand in mine. He gave my hand a squeeze, and held tightly. Here we were, being a proper couple. Why on earth had it taken so long?  
"Liam's going to get angry, we'd best go get to the car," Harry said sadly, pulling me with him back towards the door. Right before he opened it, he turned back to me.  
"I miss you already."  
August 26  
Harry  
It's been a long two months.  
I went down to the basement yesterday. Louis had never bothered to make the bed, even when he was packing up. I sat on the pull out couch and remembered.  
The bomb shelter hasn't seen the likes of Louis, Niall, Liam or Zayn for a while. Zayn stopped by a few weeks after the prom but we just didn't feel like playing. We just did what normal teenage boys do, play video games. He asked me about Louis and why I hadn't cleaned up the place. I didn't know what to tell him.  
Tonight was going to be a big night. The Jones Show concert. Admittedly, I was excited. For all my obsession with music, I had never actually been to a concert of my favourite band. Liam and Niall were the most excited. They had made us all swear to get t-shirts. And of course, I was going to get one for Louis. He'd be pissed when he got home and found out he had missed a concert. He loved the Jones Show. It was impossible not to.  
Here I was, waiting on the doorstep wearing the Ramones shirt from prom, pretending it still carried Louis' scent. The air felt like it was ready to storm- heavy, warm, and still. I wiped the sweat from my hands on my jeans. Of course I was nervous. I had spent the whole summer away from these lads, and I didn't know how much they had changed. Had they spent hours trying to write up a good song to play for everyone when the band reunited? Had they ever wondered if the band was even going to reunite?  
The call from Liam asking if I'd like to take one of the four tickets he had to go see the Jones Show was quite unexpected. I had to break the news that Louis wouldn't be home in time. One more week, I told myself. One more week and he'd be home.  
Finally, the familiar silver car drove up and stopped in front of my house. The window rolled down and Liam's head popped out. His hair was shaved and he was a couple shades darker than usual. I couldn't help myself, I grinned and ran up to the car.  
"Are you ready for the best night of your life?" he asked as I climbed into the backseat. Niall and Zayn were both squished in the car, looking quite tan and more than happy. The energy was contagious. I took my sunglasses off my shirt and put them on.  
"Let's roll, boys," I said in my best spy voice. Zayn rolled his eyes, but I could see that he was hiding a smile. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Niall catch Liam's eye and wink.  
One Direction's first concert, here we come.  
***  
The first thing I noticed was the sheer amount of people.  
There had to be over two thousand of them. All of them talking and yelling and laughing and moving. It felt like we had shown up late; the stadium was nearly full. We squeezed past the crowds to get to our seats near the front.  
"God bless my crazy uncle," sighed Niall, sitting down contently and propping his feet on the chair in front of him. We all took our seats and let it all sink in. The show would start in five minutes. The excitement in the air was palpable. I settled happily into my seat, then froze.  
"Guess who?" My head whipped around. Standing in a too-big blue t-shirt and my grey beanie was Louis, smiling wider than ever. I actually blinked a couple times to make sure he was real. He didn't disappear. I slowly rose from my seat, aware of the boys' silence behind me.  
"I- I thought you weren't coming back for another week!"  
"I wasn't, until half my cabin got sent home for nearly burning down the mess hall. Now, do I get a hello hug, or what?" I laughed and ran up to hug him. Instantly I was hit by a wave of nostalgia. Two months. It had been too damn long since I had last buried my face into his neck, felt the heat of his body, breathed in his scent.  
"I missed you like crazy, you know," I said softly, pulling away slowly and allowing myself to look him in the eyes. He had gotten way tanner- it seemed like everyone except me had. But there was the same blue eyes I had said goodbye to back in June.  
"When they told me I could go home, the first thing I did was reach for my phone to call you. But then I decided to surprise you. And boy, was it a surprise to find out you were going to a concert without me. I almost went to your house to strangle you after Liam told me," he said in a serious voice. I sheepishly shrugged.  
"I knew you'd be mad."  
"Mad? I'm furious. Now, let's take our seats, the show's about to begin." I nodded and we walked back to our seats. As I settled back into my seat, I suddenly realised something.  
"Liam, you knew about this?" I hissed. He grinned slyly and leaned back in his chair.  
"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise."  
"I truly hate you sometimes," I huffed, crossing my arms. Louis laughed and threw an arm around me. I couldn't resist leaning in to the touch.  
"Harry, I've got something to ask you," he said quietly. I turned to him. He looked nervous, and it was quite adorable. It was taking everything for me not to kiss him right now.  
"Anything."  
"Promise you won't laugh?"  
"Me? I'm a very serious person. No laughter."  
"Alright then... if I move back to Stan's, can I still sleep over sometimes?"  
"I'll see how my mum fancies me having my boyfriend sleep over. She might have to get us chastity belts."  
"Shut up, Harry." I laughed, resting my head on his shoulder. Of course it was a yes. And Louis had just let me call him my boyfriend.  
I was with my four best friends, about to see my favourite band play. The feeling of Louis' arm around me, the excitement in the air, the comfort of knowing everything was alright. Liam could be right, this could quite possibly be the best night of my life.  
The lights flicked off.


End file.
